


"you are paris"

by thestarsaregivenonceonly



Category: Timmy Chalamet, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom, chalamet, lil timmy tim - Fandom, tim chalamet, timothee, timothee hal, timothee hal chalamet
Genre: Blurb, Drabble, F/M, Missionary Sex, One Shot, Oral Sex, Paris - Freeform, Smut, imagine, romantic, timothee blurb, timothee chalamet blurb, timothee chalamet drabble, timothee chalamet imagine, timothee chalamet one shot, timothee chalamet smut, timothee drabble, timothee imagine, timothee one shot, timothee smut, you are paris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23733850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaregivenonceonly/pseuds/thestarsaregivenonceonly
Summary: Anonymous  asked:Hi sweetie! I just saw a picture of a short conversation: „Take me to Paris”, she said. „You are Paris”, he replied. And I thought that would be nice in a story. I thought about Timmy touching parts of her body gently, saying this is the Sacre Coeur, etc. And it turns into passionate smut. Timmy talking french. What do you think? Love you lots ❤️
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Reader, Timothée Chalamet/You, timothee chalamet x reade, timothee chalamet x you, timothee x you, timothee/reader, timothee/you
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	"you are paris"

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr to make requests, same username xx

Date night, handsome, tall and lean, he held your hand tightly as you made your way back to his apartment, eventually wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer. A kiss to the side of your head, je t'aime, mon amour. He held the door to the building open for you, loosening his tie and unintentionally leaving fingerprints on the glass. A nod to the neighbor, fumbling uselessly with her mail key as she waved hello. You kissed the top of his hand and he twirled you in a circle as you entered the elevator, silver sparkles reflecting back at the both of you. He pressed the button with a delicate thumb, tugging you close by the waist again and nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“I did,” you said quietly, hooking your arm around his hips and watching the numbers rise slowly, beep, beep, beep.

“Me too,” he murmured, kissing your head gently and giving you an affectionate squeeze.

You swallowed hard as the doors opened, stepping to the right and walking to the end of a long, elegantly decorated hallway. Red carpets, you were celebrities even when no one else saw, he stopped at the door and unlocked it quickly. Stepping inside, you shed your jacket and purse and slid your heels off.

“Much better.”

“If it helps, you look amazing in those shoes.”

“That makes it worth it,” you giggled, tossing them aside and wiggling your toes. He beamed and slid his own shoes off, shaking his head.

“You’re a tease, my girl.”

“So what if I am?”

He laughed, walking over to you and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Never change.”

“Only for the better, my love.”

“Very good,” he nodded, moving through the apartment to the kitchen in the far corner, his socked feet sliding across the tiles. You followed him and gasped quietly when you stepped onto the floor, cold as ice, you jumped a little.

“Fuck the floor is freezing,” you said loudly, moving back into the living room. He turned around and smirked, pulling a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll get the drinks, little lady.”

“Thank you, Timothée.”

He brought two glasses over to where you stood, and together you walked to the sofa, sitting comfortably and putting your feet up on the coffee table. He took his tie off and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, crisp and white as the clouds in the sky. You turned your body and put your legs over his, running one hand slowly through his hair as the other lifted the glass to your lips. Moaning softly, he leaned his head into your hand and sighed contentedly.

“I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you.”

“Good wine?”

“Fabulous wine,” you responded, taking faster sips, wanting to feel a sweet and warm buzz. He was drinking just as quickly, making eye contact with you, and before you knew it the both of you were chugging the drinks. Timmy finished first, setting his drink on the table and putting both hands in the air.

“Winner!”

“Fuck me!” You yelled, putting your glass down loudly. “That was so close!”

“I’d love to.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

A small giggle, he slid his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you closer to kiss you, wine on his lips and purpose on his tongue. You put both hands in his hair this time and kissed him back eagerly, your body igniting with desire. He smelled so good, small sounds escaping into your mouth, every sense was on fire.

“Let’s play some music,” you mumbled into his lips, reaching blindly with one hand for a phone. Finding yours first, you broke the kiss and opened your music app, smiling and biting your lip when he placed wet kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Whatever you want, mon ange.”

You set the phone back on the table as one of your favorites began to play, a song with a deep bass and fun lyrics. He pulled you back to his face and kissed you again, one hand finding your thigh and sliding up it slowly. Thumping in your ears and heart as the music played, you sat there with him for several minutes just making out, tasting each other, blood pumping through your veins. His hand moved further up your dress until it found your panty line, his forefinger tracing it slowly, leaving goosebumps along your stomach.

“You’re tickling me,” you giggled, pulling back and shoving him playfully. He blushed furiously and grinned, pulling his hand out and sitting on it.

“So sorry.”

“Hey now, you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

He shrugged, raising both eyebrows, challenging you. You folded your arms and wrinkled your nose at him. The song changed as you were about to open your mouth to speak, a new Lady Gaga bop, and you were on your feet before the third note played. Laughing loudly, Timothée sat back against the couch cushions and watched you dance. Biting down on his bottom lip, he adjusted his waist, a tent in his pants, you continued to dance, spinning in circles and shaking your hips and ass in his direction.

“Fuck” he said over the music, leaning forward suddenly and running his hands down his thighs. “Come back here.”

“Nope.”

He whined and shifted again, lifting both arms and reaching out to you. You made a face and shook your head playfully, continuing to dance, your dress reflecting the lights in the room on his face. A low growl, barely discernable above the noise, he stood quickly and was around the table in three strides, pulling you against his body. You kept dancing, wrapping both arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his lust, staring him down and singing along. His face registered almost every good emotion at once, wildly ranging from a lovesick puppy to a horny teenager. Giggling, you turned around and shook your butt against his body, putting your arms above your head.

“Mmmmm, stay like that, mon amour.”

“Like what?” You shouted, beginning to lower your arms.

“No, leave them up.” He reached over and turned the music down as a slower song began to play, walking around in front of you again. You raised your eyebrows, holding both arms in the air and watching him.

“Yes?”

“You look like the Eiffel Tower,” he mused, stroking his chin as his eyes moved slowly down your body. A shocking tingle of pleasure between the legs, you inhaled sharply through the nose and gulped, your hands lowering a bit.

“Do I?”

“My Eiffel Tower,” he mumbled, stepping closer, putting one hand on your hip. “My beautiful girl, lighting up the night.”

You slowly lowered your hands until they rested on his shoulders, your mouth now agape. He took the opportunity willingly and captured your lips again, kissing you passionately and tugging you closer by the waist. Inhaling his air, lust on your tongue, butterflies in your tummy, his hands found your behind and he lifted you into the air, carrying you down the hallway to the bedroom. You kissed him back, messy and needy, shutting the bedroom door behind him when he entered. Your hands wove into his hair, his fingers digging into your skin. Falling on top of you, he urgently pushed you up the bed until your head rested on the pillow. His fingers, dextrous and confident, tugged at the zipper on the side of your dress, removing it from your body and shoving it carelessly onto the floor. Holding himself above your body, he pressed tender kisses to your eyelids, down your nose and cheeks to your lips again. Your hands found the buttons on his shirt and pulled them open impatiently, sliding your fingers down his bare torso when the shirt was open. A loud string of curses as he kissed down your neck and shoulder, both hands traveling down your arms.

“And right here,” he whispered into your skin, kissing along your collarbone and down your chest, using his fingers to trace lines along your bra line. “The Lourve, so full of art and beauty on the inside…” He kissed over your heart, nuzzling his head between your breasts and sighing softly.

“Timmy,” you groaned, arching your back into his touch and sliding your fingers through his hair. The tingling between your legs was becoming more and more demanding. “Please…”

Down your stomach, he swept your bra aside and slid both hands up your chest, squeezing it gently. You cried out and tugged on his hair, biting down hard on your lower lip. His lips found the strap of your panties, and he slowly tugged them down with his teeth. You sat up on your elbows to watch as he moved slowly up between your legs, a predator in love, pushing them open wide.

“The Arc de Triomphe,” he whispered, sliding his lips slowly from the inside of one thigh to the other in an arc, moving them across your heat and drawing a whimper from your throat. “You’re gorgeous.”

You couldn’t breathe, colors and sounds of every kind flooding your senses, the bed heavy and comfortable beneath you, you couldn’t stand it a second longer. “Baby, please!”

He buried his face into your sex and growled roughly, shaking his head to create friction and flicking his tongue against your clit. You nearly screamed, your hips bucking into the air the second his mouth made contact. He groaned and found your eyes, messily eating you out until your back was forming the arc rather than your legs. Breathless and gasping, you turned your head and bit the pillow, calling out his name without a care that the neighbors might hear.

Let them be jealous.

“You taste so good,” he mumbled against your sex, the vibration against your clit sending you over the edge. The orgasm was intense and instantaneous, your leg muscles clenching as the pleasure washed through your body, chemicals flooding your brain. He soaked it in with hungry eyes and continued his assault until your body lowered back to the bed again.

Lifting his head, he licked his lips and eyed you hungrily, sitting up and tugging at his belt. You sat up too, pulling it off and throwing it aside. Kissing up his stomach and chest, he whined quietly and shoved his pants down quickly, kicking them aside.

“Did you take your pill?”

You nodded against his stomach, birth control for almost a year before he stopped using condoms. The difference was fucking unbelievable.

Pushing you back onto your back again, he tugged your waist closer and held himself at the base to line himself up with your entrance. You wiggled closer until he was just barely inside of you, the both of you moaning loudly, your sex still sensitive. Pushing suddenly and roughly in, he began to snap his hips back and forth with passion and heat. Lowering until he was on top of you, he buried his face into your neck and bit down on it, faster, harder, deeper. There was no air, you were suffocating so beautifully, and if he ever left you’d never suffocate again. 

There was nothing worse than that.

“You… feel… so good,” he grunted, reaching down to your inner knee to tug it up and around his body. “Merde.”

You lifted your hips to meet every movement, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head each with each thrust. The music was still playing in the other room, another thumping bass, Lorde now, low and sensual to go with his rhythm.

“Timothée!” you cried, your head sliding further up the bed until the pillow was almost halfway up the headboard.

“Give it to me, baby girl,” he moaned, tightening his grip on your calf and thrusting harder.

You were higher than a kite, and when the second orgasm hit it was better than the first, a loud, earth-shattering echo. Screaming his name into his shoulder again, you squeezed him close and clenched your muscles around him tightly until he came abundantly inside of you, the warmth spreading down your thighs. He released a loud grunt followed by a low moan, his movements sloppy and uneven. You felt so close to him, so connected, souls intertwined completely, one being.

Eventually he stopped moving, breathing hard against your neck and lying heavily on top of you. You hooked both arms and legs around him tightly, pressing a kiss to his temple, loving him so much that your insides physically ached.


End file.
